


sweet dragon of mine

by shoshanna (gregoryadams)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Fluff and Angst, Mild Language, Post-Canon, Zuko (Avatar) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, druk is zukos emotional support dragon, the dragon doesn't show up until chapter two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25429693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gregoryadams/pseuds/shoshanna
Summary: In which Druk is Zuko's emotional support dragon™
Relationships: Druk & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 168





	1. Dragon Fire

Inhale. Exhale. One– no, two more shots of whiskey– and then heat, and a spark, and– ah, there it was– dragon fire! A tornado of color engulfed the Firelord, and as quickly as he had summoned it, the flames went out.

“Water!” One of the Imperial Firebenders called out, throwing a bucket of ice at Zuko (it melted before it hit him, of course). The courtyard was filled with steam as more water was tossed in to drench the flames. As the gentle spring breeze shifted, the scene was revealed.

“Firelord Zuko,” An irritated voice called out, and his golden eyes shifted to meet those of the court physician marching towards him. Shit. “You do understand that the purpose of my job is to keep you alive? I swear-- no matter how many assassins or ne'er-do-wells come to do you harm– you are the person who threatens my job the most!”

  
Zuko sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He had just bent dragon fire– dragon fire! Even though it was just for a few seconds, that was more than any fire bender had gotten in over a century. Sure, the alcohol helped, but once he got a handle on the technique, he could wane that off. Couldn’t they just celebrate for a minute?

  
“I’m fine,” He finally said, the court physician in front of him, fumbling in his bag for something. He did feel… fine. And a little drunk. Perhaps he didn’t need as much alcohol as he thought he did. The adrenaline of the fire bending training session was beginning to wear off. Wow, it was a hot one today.

  
“Hm,” The doctor lifted a finger, keeping Zuko from wandering off while he pulled a thermometer from the depths of his bag, “Temperature.”

  
Zuko opened his mouth and the physician put the stick under his tongue, checking his watch for the time. He mumbled, “Really, what part of ‘go easy’ do you not understand? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

  
Zuko ignored him and found a towel to pat his face dry. Sitting down on one of the steps, the Imperial Firebenders he had been training with were now at full attention, “Don’t think I’m letting you two off, either,” The physician hissed. They looked at each other, guilty behind their masks, “How could you let him train like this? Don’t you remember what happened when he tried lightning?”

  
“Why do you have to be like this, Doc?” grumbled Zuko, who was quickly getting annoyed with him. The doctor snatched the thermometer from his mouth, looked at it, and --oh, what a surprise– frowned in disgust.

  
Despite this, something softened in his voice, “Well, just let me know if you’re going to pass out,” The physician was searching through his bag again, but his words were barely out before the Firelord had laid down on his own.

  
“Can I get something to–” A servant handed him a cold drink before he could finish his request. Zuko muttered his thanks and, propping himself up on one elbow, downed as much of it as he could in one swallow before falling to the floor again. This was nice; he could lay here for a while.

  
The court physician looked at him. He had been there when Zuko was born. At that point, he was just an apprentice and frankly honored to be able to take a part, small as it was, in taking care of the royal family. It seemed like such a long time ago, but really, Zuko was still young.

  
“Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it, Firelord? Have any plans for that?” Keep him talking. He’ll stay conscious if you give him something to think about.

  
“Yeah, my friends and I are going to party on Ember Island. I am going to get absolutely wasted and show off my dragon fire. Then, when the night is over I’m going to go for a midnight swim and set off my own lightning and hopefully not electrocute myself in the water.”

  
One of the Firebenders stifled a laugh. The physician sighed. Since when did Zuko have a sense of humor? He pulled out a vial of fever reducer and a syringe. Hopefully, this would be enough to cool him down long enough to get in an ice bath. “Sit up,” He asked, and begrudgingly Zuko obeyed. The physician stuck him in the arm and noticed he was gaining some more muscle. ‘At least he’s eating,’ Doc thought, ‘Even if this training is going to kill him,’

  
There did seem to be a positive change in the young Firelord these past few months. Perhaps it was due to the improved security measures (there hadn’t been an assassination attempt in six months), or finding some balance in his work (he actually took breaks once in a while), or having a new coping mechanism (that is, trying out the most dangerous and advanced forms of fire bending that most sane people would leave alone). Even Doc couldn’t contest that Zuko seemed brighter now that he had settled into his role as Firelord. It had taken him a few years, but things were getting better, and the future looked promising.

  
“Doc–” The court physician caught the Firelord as his consciousness left him and sighed. Yes, the future would be promising, if Zuko had any instinct for self-preservation.

* * *

  
Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Zuko was filled with that familiar feeling of dread. Automatically, he began taking inventory to find what was misplaced. He had the notes from the meeting. His audience with the Ambassador from the Earth Kingdom had been moved back. All he had left tonight was dinner with some councilmen. What was he forgetting?

  
The sound of his escort’s boots meeting the floor was frustratingly loud. The guard was walking awfully close behind him, too. Being the Firelord, Zuko was used to having little privacy, but at least the guards would give him the luxury of space. Space enough, to forget that he was always being watched and followed. Usually, little things like the sound of footsteps wouldn’t bother him but for whatever reason–

  
He stopped abruptly and faced his escort. The guard stopped a second after him, suddenly stiff. After taking a look at the guard, and seeing his shoes, Zuko understood, “What was your plan?” He hissed.

  
“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Not that Zuko cared, but his guards addressed him as ‘Your Majesty’ and not ‘Sir.’ Under the helmet, Zuko met muddy eyes and stared. There was something like fear in them. Maybe this guy was just new. Probably not.

  
Zuko took in a breath. He was just being paranoid. He turned around and there were four more guards– and look, they were all wearing the wrong boots.

  
They all lunged at him simultaneously. He pushed them back with his fire bending, but there was a sharp pain coming from his back. His robes were getting hot, and he could feel the sweat– or was that blood?-- trickling down his skin. Where was his security?

  
Zuko turned to the original escort, whose knife was dripping red on the marble floor. He didn’t have time to process that– he just sent over another blast of fire that sent the would-be assassin scuttling down the hallway.

  
It was getting hard to breathe and hard to see. They were running at him again, and this time, Zuko wasn’t sure if he could deflect all four of them–

  
“Firelord Zuko?” A soft voice brought him back to reality, “Calm down, you’re safe,”

  
Zuko blinked. He wasn’t in that hallway anymore; he was in his bathroom, sitting in a tub of ice. There were servants filtering in and out of the room. One of them– the one who spoke– was holding a cold compress to his forehead. Two more slowly released the grips they held on his arms. Right, he had gotten dragon fire. Doc had yelled at him. He had fainted.

  
“What time is it?” The Firelord winced at the cold, but he knew if he raised his body temperature now it would just mean more time in the ice bath.

  
“Your dinner has been sent for, Your Majesty,” As if on command, his stomach grumbled. Zuko slowly hoisted himself up from the tub. Immediately, a towel was wrapped around his shivering shoulders and a servant came in with his robe. It felt almost silly, that there were so many people involved in what would usually be a solitary endeavor, but Zuko wasn’t going to say anything.

  
He ran his fingers through his hair, still shaken from that memory. Everything had turned out fine in the end; the only injury he had was a large cut on his back, but it wasn’t even a stab wound. In the moment, he wasn’t even that scared. Why did it come back to haunt him now? Why did it feel so real?

  
The Firelord took in a breath and moved to the dining room in his suite. Someone came in with his food, and he ate, alone, while three people watched. It was silly, that there were so many people around, and yet he was still so lonely. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like eating anymore.

  
Thankfully, the court physician came in to distract him, “How are you feeling, Your Majesty?” He said with a bow.

  
“Fine, thank you,” Zuko replied, taking a sip of water, “Have you come to yell at me again?”

  
Doc chuckled bitterly, “Not right now, Firelord Zuko. I asked the servants to get me when you woke up, but I didn’t realize I’d be interrupting dinner,”

  
“Please, sit,” Zuko motioned to the table, but the physician hesitated.

  
“I’m afraid I won’t be staying,” That was the appropriate thing to do, but Firelord Zuko never seemed one to care about traditional boundaries, “I just wanted to make sure you were alive and didn’t have any concerns.”

  
Zuko frowned and moved the food on his plate around mindlessly, “Do I ever, Doc?”

  
The physician looked at him. Something had changed in the half-hour since their last meeting. Zuko’s golden eyes shifted up. Doc knew it wasn’t meant to be intimidating, but something about his gaze was unnerving. “You can go, if you don’t want to stay,” The Firelord finally said. Zuko forgot, sometimes, that he had to give people permission for little things like that. The physician smiled and bowed on his way out.

  
Zuko sighed and abandoned his dinner. He couldn’t eat tonight.


	2. Ember Island

Besides the blatant sarcasm in his earlier statement regarding his birthday plans, Zuko had unknowingly told another lie to his doctor. His friends would not be joining him on Ember Island this year. He didn’t blame them– they were each busy with their own things. Sokka was up North negotiating trade deals for his tribe, Aang and Katara were about to have a baby, and Toph was supposedly establishing a police force (which Zuko assumed was an obvious lie to spare his feelings). 

Despite his solitude, Zuko was happy just to be out of the palace. He enjoyed sailing through the water, getting glimpses of the different islands that comprised the Fire Nation. It was a beautiful day for a boat ride, and he realized that he missed the smell of saltwater and the cry of seagulls. He was determined to relax and enjoy himself. It was his birthday, after all, and he could do whatever he wanted. 

Ever since the renovations had finished on his family's summer home, the whole island seemed to come to life. Perhaps because it was no longer haunted by the abandoned mansion that marked a broken royal family. Or maybe it was just like that for Zuko. 

Originally, he was planning to burn it down before Sozin’s Comet, however, when Aang went missing he had to put his dramatic aspirations aside and figure out a solution to that problem. After he was crowned Firelord, he would have done it, too, if Aang and Sokka hadn’t begged him to have a beach party every time they saw each other. “You owe us for ruining the last one,” They would say to make him feel guilty. It worked.

Anyway, now Zuko was glad that he hadn’t burned down the only place that had brought him joy during his childhood. Even with the renovations, the nostalgia of being there trumped whatever negative feelings of prematurely lost innocence still plagued him. This was a happy place.

From the dock, Zuko went straight to the beach, where there was already an umbrella and chair set up for him. He sat and watched the tide come in, reaching his now-bare feet into the cool water. The ocean sighed as it receded, leaving only the hot sun beating down. It felt good. 

Eventually, a servant came to remind him that he wasn’t alone and that he was, in fact, Firelord, “Something to drink, Your Majesty?”

Zuko took the fruity beverage from the servant’s tray and nodded his thanks. The servant scurried back into the house. After a few sips, he decided that he was positively bored and decided to go for a swim. 

He left his outer garments on the chair and relished the feeling of the sun on his skin. After a final sip of his drink, he ran into the ocean, against the waves crashing into him. Once he was deep enough in, he laid on his back and focused on floating.

Zuko let the waves carry him along gently. Despite being a fire bender, he liked being in the water. It was like he was engulfed in a cool embrace, being rocked to sleep. His muscles were tired, and so was his spirit. He realized that this was a much-needed break. 

A wave unexpectedly crashed over him, and he quickly righted himself. The shore was beginning to look too far for comfort, so he started swimming back. Another wave pushed him under and water came up his nose. Zuko coughed; his eyes were stinging from the saltwater. 

Suddenly, the water felt colder, and the bright summer sun was replaced with a grey sky. Zuko could see his breath fog in front of him: he was no longer on Ember Island, but back in the North Pole!

Zuko had to get out of the ocean or he was going to freeze to death. He looked around, but there was only water, water, water for as far as he could see. He dived under the waves, there had to be somewhere he could come back out. He focused on the light above, but when he made it to where the surface should have been all he was met with was inches of ice. 

He hit it with his hands, but the ice didn’t budge. Would Zuko be able to bend enough heat to melt the ice before it killed him? All the energy inside his body he directed to his fingers– that was all he could do to keep himself from drowning. Finally, he broke through the ice, reaching his hands out and finding they were filled with hot sand. 

Zuko lifted his head out of the water. He had made it to shore– on Ember Island. He probably looked strange, lying on his stomach in the sand, the tide just barely coming over him. Lifting himself up, he decided to be done with the ocean for today. It was getting late, anyway, and his hair was wet. He trudged back to the House, not even bothering to bring his clothes. 

The House silenced when the Firelord returned. He was, after all, still dripping seawater onto the recently polished wood floors. Dinner wouldn’t be for another few hours, and Zuko had some reading he had wanted to do. He missed reading– he rarely had the time or energy to read for pleasure nowadays. 

He made his way to his bedroom, where the books he ordered were already waiting on the nightstand. His fight with the ocean had left him tired and his bed looked oh-so-inviting. He collapsed into it, resting his eyes for a moment. But then again, what was a moment? He felt himself drift off; someone would wake him when it was time to wash up. 

* * *

Zuko did wake up, but it wasn’t to the gentle nudge of one of the servants, but to his bedroom wall being blasted to pieces. He was thrown from his bed to the floor. Fire quickly spread around the perimeter of the room, and from behind the flames, Zuko could see a large, cloaked figure stepping towards him. 

Zuko jumped up and steadied his breath to put out the fire. There were shouts coming from another part of the house and someone was coming up the stairs. They wouldn’t make it in time. Another shot of fire hurled towards Zuko, but he easily deflected it. While the flames dissipated, he crawled out the window behind him and onto the roof. He barely had a moment to steady himself before the assassin joined him, leaving a new hole in the wall and more trails of fire in his wake. What a shame; the renovations were just completed!

Zuko looked and saw his staff was outside, watching the encounter. Two of his guards situated themselves under where he faced his assassin. “You’re surrounded,” Zuko yelled, “There’s no way out!” 

The assassin laughed bitterly, “I knew that from the start,” and blew the roof from under them. After the initial fright of falling, Zuko was able to steady himself with his fire, but that didn’t stop pieces of the roof from hitting him. His assassin was stuck under a support that had fallen, and was continuing to bend fire from his arms, “You’re an imposter!” the assassin called, “You have no right to rule!” 

Like Zuko hadn’t heard that before. He kicked out some rubble from where a door used to be and found himself at the back of the House. A pair of guards ran to him, “Your Majesty, are you alright?”They said to him, taking his elbows. He followed them two steps when–  _ BOOM!  _

The force of the blast threw them all several feet back into the beginnings of the surrounding forest. Zuko cried out in pain as he landed on his wrist. The entire back of the House had been blown up, and the rest of it was engulfed in crimson flames. He looked for his guards, but could only see one, whose head was resting gingerly on a rock, a small trickle of blood oozing from his forehead. 

Zuko’s stomach sank. The assassin emerged from the burning building, fire at the ready. Zuko pulled himself up with his uninjured arm and stood in a fighting stance. Today was his birthday and he was going to murder the motherfucker who ruined it. 

As the assassin rushed towards him, Zuko took on the offensive, shooting flames with every punch. The assassin spun, tossing a whip of fire in Zuko’s direction, unfortunately for him, Zuko had already moved out of the way and was ready to meet him with a blast of his own fire– dragon fire. 

The assassin looked just as surprised as Zuko did as he tried to dissipate these flames but could not. His arms were burning with the colorful fire, and he cried out “Curse you! Curse you and your house!” 

Zuko didn’t wait around for the assassin to find his courage again; he bolted into the forest. His guard was more than capable of handling this. ‘I just have to get away,’ Zuko thought, ‘Away, away, away!’ 

As he weaved through the trees, Zuko clutched his injured wrist to his chest. He was feeling hot again, and it was getting harder to breathe. He decided dragon fire wasn’t really useful in a fight unless he could find some way to use less energy.

In the distance, the screams of his assassin died away. Zuko hoped that was because his guard had successfully subdued him. He collapsed against a tree; here, he should be safe. In theory. 

Zuko’s vision was getting blurry. He was  _ not _ going to pass out. In fact, he was determined not to. His head was pounding– he needed water, he needed–

Zuko blinked, then backed as far as he could into the tree behind him. He was losing it. He had to be losing it, because what was staring back at him– was impossible. Red scales, golden eyes, no bigger than a palm branch: baby dragon. 

It approached the Firelord, cautiously, curiously, while Zuko struggled to keep his breath steady. A million questions flooded his head. What was a dragon doing on Ember Island? How did it get here? Why wasn’t it running away? Where was its mother? His thoughts were interrupted when the dragon huffed fire. 

With a short wave of his hand, Zuko bent the fire away before it could burn him. The dragon almost looked offended, “Well what were you expecting me to do?” He said passively in response. 

The dragon inched closer, and Zuko stopped backing away. He would hold his ground. This act of dominance didn’t stop the beast, as it dared to get closer, step on his lap, and even nudged the arm Zuko was keeping locked to his torso. It looked back up at him, almost sympathetically. 

Zuko released the tension in his injured arm and the dragon promptly stepped on it, “Ow!” Zuko huffed, now using his other hand to gently place the dragon back on the ground. It looked confused, “I’m fine,” he said. 

Zuko sighed, as much as he would enjoy being with this dragon a little while longer, he feared that this little guy had a mother who was going to eat him. So, he stood and started making his way back through the woods. 

The dragon slithered after him. “Go back to your mother,” Zuko ordered, though he doubted the dragon understood him. He took another step, and the dragon wound itself around his leg. Zuko yelped and physically cringed. 

The dragon climbed up his body and settled on his chest. His little claws were digging into his sternum. He pulled the dragon off him again, but this time, when he looked into the dragon’s eyes, he thought he saw something like sadness in them. “Shit, I guess you’re coming with me,” He really hoped mama dragon wasn’t lurking around here somewhere. 

Zuko then realized the dragon was shaking– it was cold. He sighed, and let the dragon slip into the crook of his arm. He bent a small fire in his elbow and the dragon curled around it. “This is nice,” Zuko said to the dragon. 

It made a little guttural noise, “It’s not like I can keep you,” he mused to himself, “Can I?” He chuckled, “You can be my second-in-command. Scare away all the bad guys– no, what am I thinking?” The dragon tilted its head, “Wow, you are cute,” Zuko sighed. 

From a distance, he heard his guard call, “Your Majesty?” They were looking for him; they must have subdued the assassin. He started making his way back, but paused for a moment, looking at the dragon in his arm. 

“I guess this is goodbye,” Zuko attempted to set the dragon down one final time, but before it reached the ground it wrapped itself around his ankle and climbed under the cuff of his pants. Naturally, Zuko squirmed. 

“Your Majesty!” His guards came running towards him, and he stiffened, facing them “Are you okay?” They called out to him. 

“Yes,” The dragon was still in his pants, curled around his leg, “Yes, I’m alright,” One of the guards looked down, and had an odd expression on his face. Zuko blushed, “It’s just my dragon.” 


	3. Zuko Alone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update-- I had to show my Grandma the true meaning of Christmas

The cruise back to Caldera was tense, and not just because there was an assassin in the brig. Some of the servants tried to lighten the mood by handing out cake, but Zuko wasn’t thinking about his birthday anymore. His only concern was the dragon curled around his leg. 

‘I’m such an idiot,’ He thought, ‘I mean, I knew I was an idiot before, but this is just plain stupid!’ He was trying his best to sit very still so that the dragon wouldn’t move around and his staff wouldn’t get any weird ideas. For once, he thanked Agni for the cover of night. 

They slipped silently into port close to midnight, and Zuko was exhausted. At least he could relax tomorrow morning. His feet dragged on the carpet as he made his way to his chambers. The dragon wasn’t moving; Zuko hoped that meant it had fallen asleep. 

His usual valet had already gone home, and the Fire Lord was lucky to be alone in his dressing room that evening. Carefully, he removed his clothes without waking the dragon. He placed the dragon on the sofa and was picking up his pajamas when he saw himself in the mirror and jumped. Curling around his right thigh was the dragon’s mark–- a self-portrait by the looks of it-- permanently etched into his skin. Zuko already had two more dragon marks than most considered possible, but this was downright outrageous. This was something people would notice. 

With a resigned sigh, Zuko slipped into his pajamas. ‘A problem for tomorrow,’ he thought, scooping the sleeping dragon in his arms and rolling into bed. 

* * *

When the first rays of sunlight filtered in through the window, the Fire Lord opened his eyes and yelped– there was a dragon flying over him. It was the same, little red one he had picked up on Ember Island, but some part of him wished it was just another one of his dreams. 

He tried to sit up, but as soon as he put pressure on his wrist, a shot of pain ran up his whole arm. The dragon looked at him quizzically, “I guess you’re gonna stick around, then,” Zuko muttered. This was unexplainable– how could he even care for a dragon? Didn’t they eat people? How was he going to break this to his staff? Hey, you know the dangerous monsters my forefathers hunted to extinction? I brought one to the capital!

He groaned in anticipation of the mess that this was going to be, but the dragon settled down on his chest and looked at him with his large golden eyes, “You are sweet,” Zuko hummed, petting the dragon softly on the head. 

Footsteps approached his door and he heard his guard talking to someone. Quickly, Zuko stuffed the dragon in his shirt and laid down, pretending to be asleep. The door creaked open. 

“Firelord Zuko?” A voice whispered. Of course, it was the damn court physician. 

Zuko sighed and lazily turned over in his best impression of waking up for the first time this morning, “Hm, yes?”

“I heard about the attempt on your life, Majesty, and I thought I’d check in on you. Sorry to come so early–”

“It’s fine,” Zuko said, hoping Doc would take the hint: leave me alone. 

“--But I heard from your staff that you were having some… problems,” The doctor seemed to be choosing his words carefully. 

“Yeah, my wrist,” Zuko held up his injured arm, “I fell on it funny,” 

“Your wrist… right,” Doc nodded in understanding, coming over to sit at Zuko’s bedside, “Let me take a look,” The court physician took Zuko’s arm and felt around his wrist. He moved his hand, and looked at Zuko quizzically, “Does this not hurt?”

“It hurts a lot,” The Firelord winced. 

“Then why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Why do I have to say something every time something hurts?” He snapped back. 

“Because I’m your doctor and the only way I can figure out what’s wrong with you is if you tell me,” 

“Is that why you’re so bad at your job?” 

“What does that– that doesn’t even make sense!” Doc dropped his arm, exasperated, “What is it with your inability to look after yourself? You could get away with it while you were a prince, but now you’re Firelord. You can’t just not eat or pretend that you’re not in pain because if anything happens to you– there’s no one else. If you die, the Fire Nation will fall into chaos. Is that what you want?” 

Zuko was quiet for a minute. He wanted to say that if he was dead the Fire Nation wouldn’t be his problem anymore, but he figured now would not be the right time. Admittedly, he had given Doc a fair amount of shit over the years, but it was difficult for him to ask for help. 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said finally, “You’re right. I have a responsibility to my nation to be healthy. I’ll try to not be so much of an ass,” 

Doc smiled sweetly, then, in one swift motion, quickly snapped Zuko’s wrist back into place, a sharp burning sensation flashing up his arm, “What was that?” Zuko screamed. The physician began the intricate ritual of wrapping the newly righted wrist in bandages, while also making fun of him. 

“Boo hoo, I’m the Firelord and I can’t handle two seconds of pain while Doc sets my wrist,” 

“What happened to ‘one, two, three’?” Zuko yelled. He didn’t like being taken by surprise. 

“Please, I haven’t done that since you were a child,” Doc chuckled to himself, “Really, Zuko you can’t be such a baby. Toughen up,” Anger boiled up in Zuko, letting him forget about the pain for a moment. The dragon stirred, thankfully, Doc was looking away. He continued, “We’ll keep that in bandages for a week or two and then see how it’s doing. In the meantime, please do not do anything to injure yourself further. You’re not my only patient, you know,” 

Zuko wasn’t paying attention; the dragon’s head had poked out of his shirt and he was focused on discretely stuffing it under the covers, “Are you even listening to me?” The doctor snapped.

Zuko’s head shot up, “Of course. Don’t do anything reckless. I get it. You can leave. Goodbye,” 

The doctor shook his head and exited the room. Once the door was closed, Zuko let out a sigh of relief and flopped over on the bed. The dragon emerged from under the covers, climbed onto his pillow, and swatted at his nose with one of its claws, “Hello,” Zuko said dryly. 

He bent a little fire in his hand and held it out to the dragon, who inched towards it curiously. The dragon took flight and circled the flame, then rose towards the ceiling; the flame followed it. Zuko watched in awe as the dragon led the fire around the room, effortlessly bending multiple colors into the flame. The dragon landed on his desk and the trail of fire dissipated, but the curtains had ignited. 

Zuko shot out of bed, trying to reduce the dragon fire as much as he could with his bending, “Can’t you help?” He asked the dragon, who simply tilted his head. He smacked the curtains, trying to put the fire out, but dragon fire is stubborn and requires a strong will. 

Finally, the fire subsided and the curtains were left with a giant hole and several scorches. The servants were going to have a field day theorizing what happened with this. Zuko clutched the burnt fabric in his hands, “You can’t do this,” He said, despite knowing the dragon couldn’t understand him, “You can’t set things on fire,” 

The dragon sank under the desk, and Zuko continued, “I’m not mad. You just need to be careful,” He crouched down and saw the dragon curled up in the corner by the wall. He held out a small flame, and the dragon leaned forward. “Welcome,” He sighed dramatically, “to the mess that is my life,”   


* * *

The dragon stayed hidden under the desk while Zuko was dressed by his servants. Other than a few inquisitive looks, no one mentioned the curtains, and Zuko didn’t offer any explanation. Once they were gone, the dragon climbed up his back, carefully hidden under his cape, while the Firelord strode the corridors. 

His office was a large room that was more for appearance than anything. One wall was completely made of glass, looking out into the gardens. The other walls were lined with mahogany bookshelves, stuffed full of scrolls and tomes and knick-knacks. Behind his desk, which was cut from the same dark wood, his dao hung proudly on the wall. 

Once they were alone, the dragon emerged from under his cape and settled on a pile of paperwork that Zuko was supposed to be going over. But fuck it, dragons were cooler than working, anyway. 

Zuko opened a drawer and pulled out his secret stash of fire flakes, “Don’t tell anyone,” he whispered to the dragon. He took a couple and extended his hand to his new friend, who sniffed them quizzically. The dragon ate one and its eyes immediately snapped to Zuko, then the bag of fireflakes, then back to Zuko. There was hunger in its eyes. Before Zuko could stop it, the dragon struck. 

Zuko jumped back, spilling fire flakes all over his desk, while the dragon feverishly stuffed his face (and the majority of his body) into the bag, “Fuck!” Zuko said too loudly, watching the dragon squirm around. 

The dragon must have eaten all the flakes in the bag, because a moment later, it chewed through the bottom and attempted to slide through. The bag was stuck on it’s legs, but that didn’t stop the dragon from taking flight and avoiding Zuko’s desperate attempts to catch it mid-air. As it flew, the paper bag burned away, dropping ashes and flaming pieces of paper onto his desk, catching the stack of documents on fire. Zuko smacked the flames out– but not before a trade deal was burnt in half. He hoped the scribes had a second copy. 

Finally, the Firelord hopped on his desk and caught the end of the dragon’s tail– an action which Zuko immediately regretted– because the dragon turned and spat fire at his face. Zuko dissipated it easily, but lost his balance, and ended up on the floor alone with the crushed remains of his mid-morning snack. So much for feeding the dragon. 

Zuko let out a frustrated grunt and buried his hands in his face, pulling his knees to his chest. This was a disaster. The dragon noticed his discomfort and settled at his side, nudging his arm, asking permission to curl into his lap. Zuko dropped his arms and let the dragon sit on him. 

“What am I going to do with you,” He mumbled. The dragon purred in response. 

Without warning, the office door shot open and the familiar drone of his assistant’s voice filled Zuko’s ears, “Your Majesty, I’m here to–” 

The assistant’s face fell as he struggled to comprehend the sight before him. For the first time in over a century, there was a dragon in Caldera. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the dragon marks: I have a headcanon that is basically when you meet a dragon and they find you worthy they leave a mark. I imagine it like a typical dragon tattoo. The other two dragon marks Zuko has are from Ran and Shaw and they are on his back, the dragons twisting around each other like a double helix.


End file.
